


Booty Call

by orphan_account



Series: Lewis Family Traditions [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Phone Sex, and badly concealed popculture references, inappropriate office activities, literally just porn, no thats not true, theres feelings and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy texts Phil, but he's in a meeting. What's the point in being married if your husband doesn't answer your booty calls.<br/>(Set during the events of Entrenchment)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booty Call

     The first text, he ignores. And the second, as he's in a meeting with Fury and Hill and Sitwell, and they're discussing Important Things, but when his phone buzzes a third time, Hill frowns at him, and he decides to just plug a finger in the dam before Darcy floods him with messages.  
 _booty call_  
 _i said booty call_  
 _what's the point in being married if your husband doesn't answer your booty calls_  
     As he's reading the final text, a fourth comes in.  
      _im horny goddamn it_  
     Phil sighs, and shoots an apologetic look at the others as he sends a brief response.  
      _I'm in a meeting._  
     He sets his phone on silent, and dutifully returns to today's episode of We Need to Stop Barton and Romanoff From Terrifying the Interns: It's Not Conducive to a Healthy Workplace Environment.

     Twenty minutes later, he leaves, pulling his phone back out as he heads to his office.  
      _i swear to god if you dont answer me soon im gonna kill you_  
 _are you ignoring the siren cry of your gorgeous young wife seriously i could find another you in a minute_  
 _thats not true i just was chanelling beyoncé_  
 _ugh seriously this is totally grounds for divorce in like a billion countries_  
 _and probably on asgard too_  
 _but they probably dont have that problem i mean have you seen thor and man i bet sif is awesome in bed_  
 _see what youve done i am now fanasizing about a warrior godess from space_  
 _man i bet shes super kinky you know what they say about a lady in the streets_  
 _PHIL_  
 _oh my god did you turn your phone off this is such a betrayal_  
 _i am IN NEED_  
 _see what i do for you the next time you want sex_  
 _no thats an empty threat fuck please just answer me soon_  
 _how long does it take to have one meeting jesus_  
     Phil can picture Darcy, sprawled out across a bed, fidgeting as she texts Phil, eyes bright and lips dark. He texts Darcy back, opening the door to his office.  
      _I hope you haven't finished without me._  
     Natasha and Clint are perched on his couch, obviously waiting for their sentencing for this year's Interns Are Such Easy Targets contest. Phil points at the door. "Out."  
     Clint gapes. "What? We've been waiting for like hours. We hardly even killed anybody this year, c'mon!"  
     Natasha smirks. "Clint's right, we weren't nearly as bad as last time."  
     Phil looks down at his buzzing phone.  
      _i havent even started without you_  
     He resists the impulse to lick his lips in anticipation. "Out. Darcy has been texting me for half an hour and I think if I leave her any longer she'll go out and, well, you don't need to hear about what I think she'll do."  
     Natasha catches Phil's drift, and quickly pulls Clint out of the room with her, against his protests that he 'totally wants to listen in, it would be so hot'.  
     With a sigh of relief, trusting Natasha to keep Clint out of the vents surrounding his office, Phil locks the door behind them, flicking the switch on the wall that activates the room's security mode. No need terrifying the bug monkeys with the sight of Agent Coulson having phone sex.  
     He settles into his desk chair, dialing Darcy.  
     "Oh my God, finally." Her voice is breathy, strained, desperate.  
     "You really need to learn patience." Phil puts in his bluetooth and shrugs off his jacket, loosening his tie.  
     "Fuck patience."  
     Phil makes a noncommittal noise. "Oh really?"  
     Darcy breathes in sharply, but doesn't reply. She knows their rules.  
     "Where are you?"  
     "In bed. I stole Simon's room from him. The window is open, and there's a fan on. It's very bright. I'm lying down, slightly tangled in the sheets, no pillows."  
     Phil closes his eyes. "What are you wearing?"  
     "Pink underwear. Lacy. No bra," Darcy's voice turns a little mischevious, "one of your Captain America shirts."  
     Phil takes a moment to breath, keeping his voice steady, authoritative. "Keep the shirt on. Slide the underwear down."  
     There's a slight rustling as Darcy obeys.  
     "Pinch your right nipple, through the shirt. Play with it."  
     Darcy's breaths quicken slightly as she obeys.  
     "Are you holding the phone, or do you have both hands?"  
     "I've got you on headset."  
     "Good. Take your other hand, and run one finger across your cunt."  
     Phil can hear her whimper quietly. She really had been waiting for him. His dick hardens further at the thought, and he lets his legs spread slightly. "Are you wet?"  
     Darcy takes a moment to answer, breathing heavily. "Yes, I'm so wet, God, I've been--"  
     "Hands off," Phil interrupts.  
     Darcy whines. "Phil, please, sorry, please just--"  
     Phil rubs a hand over his clothed dick, fully hard now. "For that, it's going to be just you and me. No helping hands, as it were." He waits for a moment, listening to Darcy's ragged breath. "Alright, now with one hand, continue running one finger, just one, over your wet cunt. Use the other to keep your mouth shut. Wouldn't want anyone to overhear you, not with how you're going to want to scream." He's straining against his slacks now, but he doesn't undo them yet. Phil has plenty of time.  
     "Keep going, just one finger, slow and steady." He's using his professional voice, the one he uses to instruct Barton and Romanoff in the field. "It's driving you crazy, isn't it, you want more than that, God, Darcy, you're just aching for me, aren't you." He doesn't expect an answer, only a slight moan of assent, which he gets. Phil undoes his slacks, palming at his dick through his boxers.  
     "I want you to take your finger and press it up inside you. Keep it steady, let your hips do the work, nice and slow. Just back and forth, in a nice figure eight." He lets her continue like that for a long few moments, letting her little desperate whimpers run over him, still grinding against his hand.  
     "Okay, you can add a second finger, now. Slow and steady, just like before."  
     Darcy humms in satisfaction.  
     "Now, if I let you use your other hand, will you still be able to keep quiet? Can you do that for me?"  
     "Yes." Darcy's voice cracks over the word.  
     "Alright. Good girl. Use your other hand to touch your clit. Rub it lightly, slowly, between your thumb and forefinger."  
     Phil's hips jerk forward of their own accord at Darcy's following whimper. She's breathing hard, and from the muffled sound of it, she's got her lips clamped closed, trying so hard to keep from her usual monologuing.  
     He pulls his cock out, thrusting slowly into his hand. He leans forward, grabbing the lotion out of the top drawer of his desk.  
     "How does that feel, Darcy?"  
     "So good, babe, please, give me more, it feels amazing."  
     "You're doing so well, Darcy. I want you to sit up on your knees, I want you to add a third finger and fuck yourself on it. You can go faster, but keep touching your clit nice and slow, okay?"  
     Darcy moans in response, and Phil can almost see it, her head thrown back, hair cascading down her back, his tshirt falling down onto her thighs, worn and baggy. He pushes his slacks off, down to his ankles, his legs falling wide open as he fucks his hand.  
     "You're amazing Darcy, keep going, you're so incredible. You can press harder on your clit now, and add another finger if you need to. Enjoy it, Darce, let me hear you enjoy it."  
     Darcy obeys, letting her muffled moaning escape more clearly, heavy and needy. She quiets herself, though, every so often, and Phil can tell she's trying not to speak, not to demand more.  
     "Do you need to come, Darcy?" Phil struggles, now, to keep his voice completely level. He pulls his hand off of his cock, wanting to hear her come before he does. "God, what you're doing to me. You sound so amazing."  
     Darcy whimpers. "Yes, please, can I come, please, I need it, please."  
     "Slowly, now. Stop fucking yourself on your fingers, just stay still on them, focus your attention on your clit. Can you do that?" Phil pauses for her whine. "Of course you can. Harder now, rub it in little circles, just like I do, when we're in the car and you last like that for fifty miles, begging me to stop, to pull over, to fuck you over the hood."  
     Phil hears her moan, unabashedly, and his hips buck up again, against the air. "Come for me, Darcy, you're almost there, I can hear it, you're so close. You're doing to incredibly well, you can do this." He continues to commend her as her breath stutters and she falls totally silent. A second passes, and then another, and then she's gasping, moaning. "Phil, please, God, Phil, I love you, Phil, please."  
     Phil takes himself in hand once again, slightly faster than before. "Good girl. You haven't stopped, have you? I didn't tell you to stop. I think you can go again, right now, I know you can."  
     "I didn't stop, I promise, I'm still touching."  
     "Excellent, well done, keep going. I want to hear you again, hear you need me." Phil is breathing hard, still clinging to his calm demeanor. "Take your hand our of your cunt, now. Lean forward, brace yourself on the bed. Push that unbelievable ass of yours up in the air. Go faster now, just a little, you can do this, just pull yourself to the edge again, just listen to my voice, I'm right here with you, I've got you."  
     Darcy's whimpers build in pitch, until she's moaning again, the sound raw and almost feral.  
     "Right now, Darcy, come for me right now, you need it, you're so amazing, I wish I could see you right now, you're so beautiful when you come."  
     Darcy cries out, and then silences, gasping into the phone, and then as soon as she's evened out, she's going again, this time soft and quiet, whimpering Phil's name.  
     Phil is panting now, pretense of calm abandonded, voice completely wrecked. "Darcy, fuck, you're so amazing, I love you."  
     "Are you almost there, babe?" Darcy's voice is tired, loving, sated. "You're in your office, aren't you, behind your desk, legs spread apart, rolling your hips into your hand. Sex at work, that is so hot, wow, we should totally have sex on your desk sometime, well, actually, maybe another desk, because Clint would so watch from the vents." Darcy pauses, and Phil smiles at the look he knows is on her face. "Actually, fuck, he can totally watch. You'd love that, wouldn't you, to have someone else see how completely and totally you've captivated me. You have, you know. I'm all yours. Every last inch."  
     Phil's toes curl, and he's coming, groaning softly. It takes him a few minutes to recover, breathing hard, Darcy talking softly to him the whole time. Finally, he sits forward, bracing himself against his desk.  
     "I love you, Darcy."  
     "I know."


End file.
